Chapter 793: Chapter 793 - Turn around...?
Nasir, clad in magma armour and with his spear raised, charged forward at the line of intruding Arcanists. Roaring, his heavy footsteps thumped against the sandstone floor, twirling his spear in front of him. Spell after destructive spell crashed against him, either blocked by his spear, or stripping away parts of his armour.
This had been more or less the Maghreb trio’s singular strategy since starting this battle. After al, they were up against a group of only Arcanists. Although their spells, especially combined, were monstrously powerful, they would not be able to stand up for long against Nasir and Zohran in close-quarters.
So, the Maghreb trio acted like a wave, constantly crashing against the invader’s blanket of spells in the hope of breaking through. It was a battle of endurance, to see if the invaders would run out of power before the trio succumbed to their exhaustion and wounds.
This time however, things were different. Nasir was charging alone.
Before, they were standing together, wounded and tired, but still determined to break through and slaughter the intruders. At the same time, those intruders prepared new spells with smug, only slightly tired looks.
But then, a cold Nasir suddenly conjured a wall of magma to hide them. The invaders naturally grew concerned, but before they could even consider a next course of action, Nasir suddenly crashed through the wall on his own and charged them with an intimidating roar.
Over several clashes with the hunters, the trio had noticed some particularities about many of the hunter third-rankers. For one, they were numerous but relatively weak, and for two, many of them were not particularly disciplined or determined. Most of them were arrogant, but mentally weak. If push came to shove, the only thing that might get them to keep their composure was a deep fear of their superiors.
So, when Nasir came at them in this manner, most of them didn’t react calmly, or thoughtfully. They reacted with arrogance and nervousness—because regardless of their arrogance, there was still a raging Runebound charging them. "Hah! Did your friends leave you behind?!" one of them cried out as a metal spike took form in his hands.
"We’ve been beating you and the other guy back, even as that race traitor pelted us from behind!" another added as a fireball fizzled between his fingers. "If it’s just you left, then I hope you’re prepared to die!"
Some of the others were a little more concerned, but none enough to challenge the apparent confidence of their peers.
"Wait!" the more experienced blood wielder cried out, his eyes surprisingly closed. No spells took form around his. "Something’s not right! That witch is sti—"
But, it was too late. Six of his fellow hunters launched their spells, while he and one other stumbled around blind. Over the course of the battle, Zahra had consistently kept two of them locked in her illusion of a void. It didn’t work as perfectly or near-irresistibly as it did when she focused it on a single person, but it still reduced their effectiveness by quite a bit.
Meanwhile, the remaining six were so confident in their combined ability to obliterate Nasir, so sure of their impending victory, that the results of their attack utterly dumbfounded them. With cold grit, tattered armour, and a trail of blood, Nasir stormed out of the hail of destructive spells having barely slowed down.
His golden mask had shattered, revealing a handsome, middle-eastern, yet unsurprisingly pale face. Sunlight started sapping a little more of his strength, but that didn’t slow him down, either.
"W— What the hell?!" one of the hunters exclaimed, shocked and anxious. "That was enough to blast him and the dog back before! Why is he fine?!"
"I told you!" the blood-wielder snarled, still blinded. "There’s someth—"
"Whatever!" one of the six cried out in a panic. "Kill him already!"
Without pause, all six started tossing spells at him as fast as they could. No longer did they unleash them in a synchronised volley, nor did they take the time to charge them up as much as possible. They were simply tossing them wildly in Nasir’s direction... and this only made it easier for him to block and avoid their attacks, never halting his advance.
Then, suddenly, just as their was a lull in the barrage of spells, everyone heard the clean, squelching sound of a weapon sinking into undefended flesh. In fact, they heard it twice.
A little robotically, one of the six turned to look and... found their two blinded comrades had been skewered by a grinning Zohran’s two sabres.
"N— N— No..." the man whispered, his mind rapidly shutting down, his body flinching back. In front of them, Nasir was still approaching, behind them, Zohran was about to jump at them, and two of the remaining six had already been blinded by Zahra.
As soon as they all realised the situation, morale broke instantly. "Shit! Run!" one exclaimed. It appeared none of them remembered their Primarch’s statement—nor did they care. For the Primarch to kill them, they’d first have to live till then. As one, they turned towards the portal and ran.
It was close by, but they were competing with two powerful Runebound. Zohran laughed excitedly, and even Nasir revealed a bloody grin as they charged after them. Those blinded by Zahra were naturally the slowest, so it barely took a few moments for the two Runebound to catch up to them.
They raised their weapons, barely bothering to stop as they intended to simply cut these down and continue running up to the next two. Sabre and spear descended, inches from skewering a pair of unprotected backs.
Clang
To their shock, Nasir and Zohran’s weapons collided with something ice-cold, incredibly hard, and utterly unmoving. They were two small, pitch-black plates filled with tiny speckles like the stars of a clear midnight, and each just large enough to stop their weapons.
"Tut, tut, tut," an arrogant, cruel voice chuckled. "These cowards surely deserve to die, but I can’t just let it be done by you, now, can I?"
Everyone, including the six hunters, looked up with wide eyes and noticed an impeccably, and elegantly dressed man step out of the portal with a smug smirk. He wore a kind of three-piece suit that gentlemen of old might wear, and even carried a simple, black and white walking stick.
He appeared to be of middle-European origins, and carried the clear mark of the Humanitas Sangh on his chest. Four pitch black magic circles already floated around him, each spawning another midnight plate.
"C— Confessor!"